


Crowmance

by storieswelove



Series: Schitt's Creek Meet-Uglies [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Apocalyptic, CROWpocalyptic, M/M, but it's mostly just weird, dystopian fic, meet ugly, mentions of viruses!, there's mention of some potentially disturbing imagery of someone infected, this is by far the most ridiculous thing I have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove
Summary: So it figures that he’s only ten minutes away from the hospital when the citywide crow alarm sounds.He’s on an abandoned shopping street, and he can’t see a single place to hide. The hoodie has kept David safe from a stray crow here or there, and his silver sunglasses will keep him from meeting their eyes, but he doesn’t stand a chance against a murder five hundred strong.***David, alive and mostly-well during the Crowpocalypse, is caught outside in the middle of a crow attack. Thankfully, someone is there to save the day.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt's Creek Meet-Uglies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554166
Comments: 19
Kudos: 104





	Crowmance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helvetica_upstart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvetica_upstart/gifts).



> This one goes out to [ships_to_sail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/), who bet me $10 I couldn’t write a fic in 500 words or less. 
> 
> Hey Chelsea — eat crow.

David hates the ancient Helmut Lang hoodie pulled tight around his head, but so far it’s kept him safe. It has, on occasion, meant one of the mutant crows has tried to mate with him, which was — well, _incorrect_ doesn’t even begin to describe it. But so far, none have tried to kill him, and he’s virus-free, so David counts it as a win. 

He’s grateful; not everyone has been as lucky. The indelible image of Roland Schitt — sprouting feathers, laugh replaced with a deep _cawing_ as he ripped up floorboards and splintered them to build a nest — flashes through his mind. 

But today is a good day. It’s David’s turn to get the vaccine. Finally, after nineteen months, he can shed this godforsaken hoodie. Sure, he’ll have to stick to reflective clothing to keep the crows at bay while he’s outside, but he has enough silver jewelry and metallic sweaters to last him a lifetime. 

So it figures that he’s only ten minutes away from the hospital when the citywide crow alarm sounds.

He’s on an abandoned shopping street, and he can’t see a single place to hide. The hoodie has kept David safe from a stray crow here or there, and his silver sunglasses will keep him from meeting their eyes, but he doesn’t stand a chance against a murder five hundred strong. 

He’s ignoring the creeping panic, deciding between jimmying the lock on a nearby dumpster, or risking a run to the hospital, when the door to his right swings open, and someone drags him into a shuttered storefront. 

“What the hell are you doing walking outside? Don’t you know how _dangerous_ that is?” 

“Excuse me?” This guy may have saved him, but that’s some fucking snark. David pushes his sunglasses up his forehead. “Why the fuck do you think I’m wearing _this_ hideous thing,” he says, running his palm in circles around his face to call attention to his feather mohawk. “They think I’m one of them. They leave me alone.” 

The guy blinks at David for a beat and then _laughs_. An honest to god laugh. David realizes he hasn’t heard anyone laugh, really laugh in… he isn’t sure how long. It’s — nice. “Well, that’s a clever solution. Did you make it yourself?” 

“Um, no? It’s Helmut Lang. I owned it. Before. But. It’s — come in handy.” 

“Oh, so, you…bought that? Of your own volition?” 

David glances around at the sleeping bag and gas camping stove. “You know, you have quite an attitude for someone squatting in an abandoned storefront. Who the hell do you think you are?”

The guy flashes him a quick smile, and David realizes he’s very, _very_ cute. David isn’t sure the last time he noticed someone was cute, either. “I’m Patrick,” he says, extending a hand. 

David eyes the hand suspiciously. But, whatever. They’re stuck in here for a couple of hours minimum, and David doesn’t see any feathers. “David.” 

“Nice to meet you, David.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was _all_ [helvetica_upstart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvetica_upstart/)’s idea, so please blame her. She also beta’d it, so doubly so, it’s on her.
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr at [storieswelove](storieswelove.tumblr.com)!


End file.
